


Trust

by Trotzkopf



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation Kink, From Sex to Love, Light BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trotzkopf/pseuds/Trotzkopf
Summary: Sam Vimes has certain needs only Havelock Vetinari can fulfil. The arrangement has worked well for six months, but something is different this time.





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Written as response to a request for light asphyxiation kink on tumblr.
> 
> WARNING: Do not engage in asphyxiation play in RL without knowing what you're doing. Especially auto-erotic asphyxiation - not featured in the story - is incredibly dangerous and not safe. Always play responsibly. 
> 
> Please read this story as it was intended, an erotic fantasy, and not a manual for BDSM practice.

“This one,” Vimes picked up the collar and placed it in Vetinari’s outstretched hand. Havelock closed his fingers around the smooth leather. He used his other hand to pull on the ring, tightening the collar around his palm. Sam was in a mood.

“Very well. Strip.”

There was no art or seduction in the way Vimes undressed. There never was. Their arrangement had nothing to do with anything remotely romantic.

Bit by bit, the scarred body emerged. Vimes was average in height and ever so slightly padded around the midsection, but he had the most fantastic rear Vetinari had ever seen. All that running had paid off.

He also knew from personal experience that the commander was a lot stronger than he looked. The man had killed werewolves with his bare hands and lifted a fully grown, male orang-utan clear off the ground. Maybe that’s why he had agreed when Vimes had approached him. Not because Sam could defend himself, but because the idea that this powerful, dangerous man willingly submitted to him was more arousing than any artful seduction scenario.

Or maybe it was simply because he loved Sam. It was one-sided, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the few hours they spend together every few weeks. Vimes would give him the signal during their morning meetings after which Vetinari would instruct Drumknott to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. They would meet in one of Vimes’ properties that they had selected for its isolated location and indifferent neighbourhood. It worked for them.

“Your safeword is Dibbler.”

Vimes made a face but repeated. “Dibbler.”

“Very good. Kneel.”

No hesitation. No resistance. On some days it irked the Patrician how different Vimes behaved during their sessions. The commander of the Watch would have stubbornly refused or found a creative way to circumnavigate a direct order. And it would have fallen to him - Havelock - to break that resistance bit by bit. Ah, but that wasn't what Vimes needed, and Vetinari had agreed to give by taking away the control over the beast Sam kept caged in his soul, if only for an hour or two.

Sam’s nostrils flared when he closed the buckle and attached the short leash, nothing more than a loop really. The leather bobbed up and down when Vimes swallowed experimentally. He grunted but kept quiet otherwise. Silence wasn’t part of their agreement, but Vimes preferred to keep communication to essentials. Still, Havelock knew him well enough to understand Sam felt it wasn’t tight enough. Definitely in a mood.

“It will be soon enough.” Vetinari replied to the non-verbal protest which was greeted with a snort.

Perhaps not all resistance was gone. It made Havelock smile. He caressed Sam’s cheek who, for once, didn't flinch like he always did at first when he was touched with anything other than clinical detachment or straightforward contact intended to bring this session to its inevitable conclusion. Interesting. 

“How do you want it?” Vetinari asked, pressing his thumb against the corner of Sam’s mouth.

Vimes did look up at him, then. “Open me up with a toy. And then fuck me.”

“Hm.” Havelock hummed. This would be the third time. Usually, Sam only permitted the use of his mouth. Something was very different about today. Well, he wasn’t going to complain.

“On the bed. Face down. Hold yourself open for me.”

Again, no hesitation. If anything Sam seemed to be in a hurry. Therefore, Havelock took his sweet time to move to the dresser. He opened a drawer and deliberated for a few minutes which toy to select for what Sam wanted. Nothing too big, or else it wouldn’t be fun when he entered him. Vetinari smiled to himself when Sam growled under his breath. He finally picked a black rubber cock. The late Mr Sonky had been an artist. What a loss for the city that had been!

Unscented oil and toy in hand, Vetinari approached the bed. He was still fully closed, including his double-breasted charcoal frock. There was something erotic about the extra layer of detachment which stood in such stark contrast to the intimate act he was about to perform.

Sam twitched when the oil pooled on the base of his spine before it slowly trickled down. Vimes pressed his forehead into the pillow when the first slick finger entered him. Havelock watched the shifting of muscles under Sam’s skin as he got him ready.

Because of the infrequency of their encounters, Sam was always incredibly tight when they started. He didn’t always want this kind of play, but when he did, it was almost as if he had to fight himself to allow it to happen despite the fact that his whole body begged shamelessly for more. It was so much like him. A living contradiction, always fighting against his own instincts because he distrusted them like he distrusted everyone else in the world. Except for Havelock. Against all odds, this complicated, cynical man didn’t hesitate to put his life into Vetinari’s hands.

When Havelock had asked him in the beginning how this was possible, Sam had explained, “You’re the only man in the world who can destroy me at a whim at this point, and you never do. I think it’s because you don’t want to. It has to be you, or no-one.”

“Has it occurred to you that this is true for me as well, Sir Samuel?”

“That’s, in fact, why I’m asking.”

“Then, we have an agreement.”

And so it began.

Havelock resisted the urge to palm himself. His trousers were uncomfortable by now, but this too was part of the game. A sort of masochistic twist where he delayed his own pleasure for as long as possible.

“Keep breathing,” Havelock commanded when he set the slippery toy against Sam’s entrance and slowly pushed.

“Breathe, Sam.”

The command was answered with a snarl, followed by open mouthed panting. There was still resistance, but like with everything else in his life the commander stubbornly forced things to go his way. Eyes closed, Sam overruled his muscles until his body relaxed and accepted. Havelock’s cock twitched as he watched Sam take inch by inch until it was fully inside of him.

Vimes breath came out in harsh puffs, but he obeyed when Vetinari ordered, “Keep it inside,” and got up after wiping his hand on the sheets. He undressed quickly and efficiently and got back onto the bed. He stroked himself from root to tip, coating his aching cock with oil. This was the beauty and also the lamentable reality of their encounters; there was no tenderness. Just two bodies and the need of one to be taken care of by the other in pursuit of the most base relief a human being could experience.

Just over six months ago, the commander had lost his temper with him. This wasn't unusual, the wall outside the Oblong Office was testament to a long history of Vimes' frustration with him. Only this time, Sam didn't bother to leave the room. He hammered his fists onto the desk before he vaulted over it, trying to haul Vetinari out of his chair. His hands never made contact. With a speed no-one expected from the usually controlled and thoughtful moving Patrician, Vetinari moved out of his way and struck Sam with such force that he crashed face forward into the now empty chair. 

He had barely time to turn over, face twisted in rage, when Havelock was already on top of him, one hand tightly wrapped around the commander's throat, the other holding a stiletto. Vimes gasped, trying against better judgement to lift his head off the floor, pressing even harder into Vetinari's hold. 

"This is quite enough," the Patrician had said, "I don't wish to—"

The rest of the sentence died in his throat when he noticed something hard poking him where he was sitting. 

Vimes still glared murder at him, face flushed, but he wasn't even trying to buck him off. Vetinari relaxed the arm holding the blade, but kept his hand on Sam's throat, subtly changing the grip. He cocked his head and squeezed ever so slightly. Sam's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. 

The next five minutes took on a surreal quality. The blade was discarded. Fingers fumbled with clothes until their cocks were aligned in Vetinari's hand, stroking them both while he kept his other hand around the commander's throat until Vimes came, the sight pulling Havelock over the edge as well. 

Instead of awkwardly mumbled excuses, they just looked at each other with frank curiosity before they tidied up and continued as if nothing had happened. 

The following day Sam proposed the arrangement.

"I'm flattered, Sir Samuel, and I can’t say I'm not tempted, but although discretion in this - ha - affair would be guaranteed, I thought you were very much a married man?" 

"I am. What of it?" 

"You know I'm not one to judge other people's morals, but Sybil is my friend and—"

"She knows."

"She does?"

"There are certain things she and I can't give each other. I'll tell her it's you - if you don't mind - so she won't worry."

Vetinari's eyebrows shot up. "Interesting. Can I assume and, indeed, I would insist, there is no-one else you're - what did you call it? _Play_ with?" 

"Yes."

"Capital." 

Spending the following weeks learning what exactly Sam Vime's idea of play was had been thoroughly enjoyable. The trust necessary for this kind of intimacy carried over and improved their working relationship as well. Everyone seemed to be happier, although Havelock had been mildly shocked when he had realised he had fallen in love. But he was good at compartmentalising and didn't want their relationship to become more complicated, so it didn't have much of an effect other than the occasional pang of longing when he looked at Sam. 

“Are you ready?” Havelock asked, giving the bottom of the rubber cock a tap.

Sam’s breath hitched, “Yes, sir.”

The toy was removed and discarded. Havelock pushed his thumb against Sam’s entrance and let the tip slip inside. Sam groaned while Havelock bit his lip to stay quiet. Today was different. Sam felt different, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any stranger Vimes called, “Wait.”

“Oh?” Havelock pushed his thumb inside all the way and enjoyed the answering hiss. “Use the word, if you must.”

“Let me turn around.”

That gave Vetinari pause. He sat on his haunches, giving Vimes space to flip onto his back.

This was new. In the six months or so since they had started, Sam had never expressed a desire to look at him while they were playing.

“You are different today.” Havelock regarded Vimes with narrowed eyes.

“Doesn’t seem to bother you much,” Sam retorted, staring meaningful at Havelock’s hard cock.

Oh, but this was a sight to behold. The commander of the Watch all spread out and wanton, wearing nothing but that collar he was going to put to good use, and giving him a look that would have reduced a lesser man to ash.

“Come on.” Sam opened his legs wider.

“You would test the patience of a saint,” Vetinari replied, his shoulders heaving as he positioned himself between Vimes’ thighs and pushed inside.

“Keep breathing, Sam!”

He almost laughed when Vimes glared at him, lips pressed into a tight line. Every twitch and shift in the body beneath him told Havelock what the commander really wanted was to trap him between those muscular legs and force him in all the way, but Havelock wasn’t having it.

“You will take what I give you,” he said, rocking his hips into the tight heat.

And he would give him everything. Gladly. All of him. But all Sam wanted was his cock and his ability to control a situation, no matter how delicate. It would have to be enough.

Vetinari took the short leash and wound it around his right hand, his left holding Sam’s thigh as he picked up speed. Their eyes locked as he pushed Sam higher and higher.

This was the first time he got to see Sam like this, making him wonder what Vimes was seeing from his perspective. He wasn’t self-conscious, and not more vain than the average man, but a part of him hated the thought that Sam merely saw the Patrician or a high-end sex toy. Annoyed with himself, he shoved the thought aside.

“Touch yourself!”

But Vimes was already there, jerking himself off with fast, short strokes, and still he kept his gaze locked with Havelock’s. Different, definitely different. There seemed to be more. More trust, more need. What else did Sam want from him? Havelock's thoughts spiralled out of control. He thrust harder, hoping to chase away this...complication. But it stayed and burned. He wondered once again what Sam was seeing right now. What else could he give him within the confines of the agreement? 

Vetinari tightened his hold on the leash one more time. Sam’s eyes squeezed shut. There was a series of gasps when he went rigid and came in thick spurts between their bodies. Havelock almost whined when Sam's muscles gripped him just shy of painful. He let go of the leash and braced himself with both hands as he chased his own release.

It was that moment when Sam opened his eyes and reached for him, pulling him down and smashing their lips together that Havelock's body gave in and he came, moaning into Sam’s mouth.

It took him longer than usual to get his breathing under control, but somehow he wasn’t in a hurry, not when he was lying on top of Sam whose hands were combing through his hair. Given all the things that had happened today, Havelock decided not to analyse and just enjoyed it.

After a few more minutes, Havelock lifted his head which regrettably made the hands stop. But he wasn’t too annoyed when they cradled his face instead and Sam kissed him again.

“You know, you’re quite possibly the only person in the world who still manages to surprise me,” Havelock remarked, licking his lips.

“Are you in love with me?”

Trust Sam Vimes to make a simple situation more complicated. “What difference does having the answer to that question make?”

The commander was still holding his face and squeezed slightly as he shook his head at Havelock.

“Typical! I ask you a straightforward question and I get…this…this…answer the damn question, Havelock!”

“My, you _are_ full of surprises today. First the choice of game, then the intimate position, the kissing, now you’re using my name - whatever next?”

“You use mine. I use yours. Answer. The fucking. Question.”

Havelock stopped and stared. Oh my. 

“You’re in love with me.”

“Congratulations, genius,” Sam replied tartly.

“Is that why you’ve been in a mood today?”

“Mood? _Mood_? I’m— “

“Yes,” Havelock replied and kissed him before Sam could talk himself into a frenzy and out of this bed. “The answer to your question is yes.”

“Well, good.”

“Indeed.”

Havelock flicked the ring on Sam’s collar. “Again?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The End


End file.
